<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I dream in black and white by Voyager_Z</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24734026">I dream in black and white</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voyager_Z/pseuds/Voyager_Z'>Voyager_Z</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>White Rose Week 2020 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Dreams, F/F, Fluff, Music, Romance, Useless Lesbians, White Rose Week 2020 (RWBY)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:07:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24734026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voyager_Z/pseuds/Voyager_Z</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"As Weiss sat on the piano bench and played, Ruby would silently lean against it from behind, sitting on the floor, nestling her head into the small of Weiss’ back. Gorgeous melodies unfurled from the piano and bounced across the room from the piano’s higher registers... The sublime music, lingering in a gorgeous pianissimo, intertwined with the sound of rainfall, blending into the other to form an almost hypnotic ambience that seeped into every corner of the room..."</p><p>For Ruby, this will be one of many precious moments together that she would doubtless dream of again and again. She would like Weiss' help to provide some colour for when she does.</p><p>---</p><p>My second contribution to White Rose Week 2020. Day 5: The Rose and the Mirror [Picture Prompt] &amp; Day 6: Moments.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>White Rose Week 2020 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788496</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I dream in black and white</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What was shortly ago just a light drizzle quickly escalated into a heavy rain, hammering away against the Beacon Academy school building in an incessant downpour. Ruby always enjoyed rainy days -- back home in Patch on her dad’s farm, her favourite pastime was reading fairy tales by a lamp on the haystacks of the barn -- and she loved how within the confines of her room, she could fall asleep to the drone and pitter-patter of droplets hitting her roof.</p><p>She also loved how the rain had this seemingly magical ability to make society seem to stop moving. And now that she and Weiss were in the same room -- a music room containing a beautiful studio grand -- it felt like the two girls were the only ones in the entire world. </p><p>As Weiss sat on the piano bench and played, Ruby would silently lean against it from behind, sitting on the floor, nestling her head into the small of Weiss’ back. Gorgeous melodies unfurled from the piano and bounced across the room from the piano’s higher registers, supported by dancelike accompaniment in the bass -- Ruby recognized the piece as one of Chopin’s nocturnes, though she had forgotten the exact number and key. The sublime music, lingering in a gorgeous <em> pianissimo </em>, intertwined with the sound of rainfall, blending into the other to form an almost hypnotic ambience that seeped into every corner of the room. </p><p>Idly, Ruby reached up over her shoulder and gently lifted the end Weiss’ long ponytail, which reached down past the bench. She marvelled at how the snow-white strands fell through her fingers like silken string, leaving a cool afterglow upon her fingertips. Closing her eyes and sighing in delight, Ruby was content to just sit back, listen, and feel.</p><p>Ruby cherished every one of these moments, where there was simply nothing but her and Weiss, and held them close. She would replay them in her memory for days, even weeks, after they occur. They’d conquer the forefront of her conscience even as she went to bed, and every sight, every sensation, and every word would dance and mingle with vivid clarity as her eyes grew heavy and she’d be sent to the realm of dreams. And even there they’d stay, and Ruby would see and feel shades of Weiss as she tossed and turned in bed. Sometimes her dreams got so visceral that she’d jolt awake with sweaty legs and flushed cheeks. When they’d next meet, she’d make an absolute fool of herself, blushing and stuttering and sputtering ten different ways with her face buried in her palms, unable to look Weiss in the eye, all the while Weiss would watch on silently, no doubt horribly confused and lost.</p><p>The music stalled. After a measured pause, it began anew, intensifying into a long, twinkling sequence of trills and <em> fioritura </em>. Ruby got up from her spot on the floor and strode over to the piano’s side, where she’d be able to see Weiss play. She loved watching Weiss’ fingers glide effortlessly up and down the keys. She loved seeing Weiss so immersed into the art she was creating, eyes closed -- yet not missing a single key (how?) -- and visage serene, ever so slightly nodding and bobbing her head, swaying to the music.</p><p>In Ruby’s own very humble and unbiased opinion, Weiss was the most beautiful and awesome person on the planet, and she’d want no one else to be her BFF.</p><p>“Could you sing for me, Weiss?” she blurted out.</p><p>“I thought we agreed that I’ll be practicing classical today,” came the response, the flurry of trills segueing into a delicate sequence of rising and falling notes, sparkling up and down half the keyboard.</p><p>Ruby hummed. “Yeah, but think about it -- isn’t today so, uh… gloomy? I look outside, and everything is just sorta… grey.”</p><p>Weiss finally finished her piece with a slow, somber cadence. The remaining resonance faded away as she released the pedal under her foot, dampers clamping down on strings, sending the room to silence.</p><p>Weiss’s gaze turned to the window as she looked outside, taking in the view. Through the torrents of rainwater rushing across its pane, she saw that storm clouds completely encapsulated the afternoon sky. Everything was dark and, as Ruby put it, dreary and grey.</p><p>“And how might my singing clear the weather? I’m not a faerie.”</p><p>Ruby laughed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”</p><p>“No, I really don’t.” She turned her body atop the bench and away from the piano, legs now down its side, fully facing Ruby. “Enlighten me.”</p><p>Ruby’s thoughts scrambled as they made eye contact, Weiss’ crystalline blue eyes piercing into her very soul. She hated it -- not really -- when Weiss did that, as it normally left her uselessly staring back like an idiot as her poor brain tried to recover its faculties.</p><p>It must’ve been really bad this time, as the next thing she registered was a raised brow and a slight ‘Hm?’ from Weiss, basically telling her to <em> get on with it </em>.</p><p>“Ah, yes, uh…” she stammered out, averting her eyes, face ever so slightly hot. “Did I ever tell you I dream in black and white?”</p><p>Weiss quizzically tilted her head to the side. “What does that mean?”</p><p>“It means exactly as it sounds,” Ruby began. “I don’t really see colour in my dreams -- it’s like I’m watching a movie from the ‘40s -- just shades of black, white, and grey.”</p><p>Weiss’ eyes widened in alarm, then softened in concern. “That sounds… rather sad actually.”</p><p>“N-no! It’s not like it’s all the time or anything!” Ruby quickly backpedalled, in an attempt to assuage her worry. “There is colour, sometimes! It’s just black and white like… most of the time, yeah....” She belatedly realized that nothing she said aided matters at all.</p><p>Weiss giggled a little -- somehow to Ruby it sounded even more splendid than her playing -- before speaking, mirth in her eyes, “That’s almost just as sad, you know.”</p><p>Ruby could only awkwardly laugh back, anxiously scratching the back of her neck, trying to find a way to not make the mood go totally depressing.</p><p>It was Weiss that spoke first, actually. “You said your dreams sometimes have colour in them.”</p><p>Ruby nodded in affirmation. “Uh-huh.”</p><p>“When are those times? Can you give me an example?”</p><p>“Umm, well, you see…”</p><p>“Ah, I guess recounting dreams is always an impossible task,” Weiss conceded. “Don’t worry about it. I understand.”</p><p>Weiss wasn’t exactly wrong, and she probably retracted her question because she detected Ruby’s growing discomfort. But Weiss didn’t grasp the true reason for her hesitance. No, every coloured dream she could remember clearly, as if it happened this morning. After all, they unerringly shared the exact same subject.</p><p>“They’re uh…,” Ruby began, embarrassment skyrocketing with every syllable leaving her lips. She suddenly found the foot of the piano to be incredibly fascinating, staring at it all the while, refusing to look at Weiss. “They’re all about me listening to you sing…” The last word was barely audible, dying out almost as soon as it exited her mouth.</p><p>But Weiss heard clearly enough. Ruby looked back up to see Weiss’ gaze averted instead, cheeks slightly flushed as she grasped the meaning of Ruby’s admission.</p><p>“...I see.”</p><p>Ruby let out a somewhat pained laugh. “It’s really weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry… I must’ve really creeped you out.”</p><p>Weiss fervently shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that.” Her gaze never left the floor as she softly said, “It’s quite sweet, actually.”</p><p>That gave Ruby all her courage back -- Weiss was just so ridiculously cute when she wanted to be. </p><p>“So yeah!” she excitedly continued, hoping to bring what became a rather involved tangent back to the original question. “That’s why I suddenly asked you to sing for me. So one day, when I dream of this moment, maybe it could have some colour in it. Like, wouldn’t it be so tragic if I dream of grey stuff in grey all over again? That’d just be… doubly depressing.”</p><p>Weiss smiled. “I see. That certainly makes sense. Your strategies continue to astound me, Ruby.”</p><p>Ruby’s heart soared at the compliment. Weiss really did have a way of making her feel on top of the world. She suddenly widened her eyes in alarm. “Ah! But only if you want to! I know how you feel about singing for other people’s benefit!” </p><p>Ruby feared she was overstepping her bounds: she knew how Weiss secretly disliked singing for others -- years of being forced to perform for her aristocratic family connections nearly killed her passion for the art entirely. This was in no way the first time she asked Weiss to sing for her -- far from it -- but those times were built on a mutual trust between singer and audience: Weiss would sing purely because she wanted to, and Ruby would listen purely because she enjoyed doing so. This, however, was the first time Ruby requested a song explicitly for her own sake.</p><p>“Don’t worry. I don’t mind. I enjoy singing for you.”</p><p>Ruby squealed as she rushed forward to give Weiss a nice, big hug. “I love you so much, Weiss.”</p><p>Weiss couldn’t even reciprocate the hug if she wanted to, Ruby’s excessively tight embrace pinning her arms to her sides. “I love you too, Ruby.” A laboured breath. “Now please let go. I can’t sing for you if you collapse my lungs.”</p><p>Ruby darted back to the window, arms pinned sheepishly behind her back, as she grinned. “Hehe, sorry Weiss.”</p><p>Both girls knew she didn’t mean it.</p><p>Weiss just laughed. “You dolt.”</p><p>Ruby only grinned even harder at that. “Ah, but I’m <em> your- </em>”</p><p>“Don’t say it,” Weiss cut her off before she could finish, and Ruby pouted at the premature death of her amazing one-liner. She turned her body back on the bench, facing the piano once again, hands on her knees as she prepared to play. “So, what would you like me to sing?”</p><p>That was the easiest question Ruby ever received. “<em> Mirror, mirror </em>!”</p><p>Weiss only sighed. “I shouldn’t have even asked.”</p><p>Ruby laughed as she returned to her special spot, sitting on the floor behind the bench, snuggling up against Weiss’ back. Every time Ruby asked Weiss to sing, it would always be for that song. It was her favourite, after all.</p><p>Ruby closed her eyes, taking in the sounds and sensations once again, as Weiss began to sing. She was sure, somewhere down the line, she would dream of this moment, just as she dreamt about each and every one of their precious moments together. And this time, it’d be as colourful as it deserved.</p><p>~ End ~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! I have returned with a second work for White Rose Week 2020, as the prompts were simply far too beautiful to remain not acted upon.</p><p>The work today is actually a double prompt: Day 5 (Rose and Mirror) from the Picture Prompts list and Day 6 (Moments) from the Admin Prompts list. I used Day 5 to establish my story's tone and plot, while Day 6 was incorporated as the story's setting and theme.</p><p>Once again, thank you to Lycanheiress, who has continually been a fantastic companion off of whom to bounce ideas. I'm grateful for her aid, as always.</p><p>See you around.</p><p>- Voyager</p><p>P.S. Bonus cookies to whoever correctly identifies the nocturne that Weiss was playing at the beginning of the story. It is one of my favourite of Chopin's compositions, and it suited the tone of this story quite nicely.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>